That night a grave was dug in Willesden churchyard, next to that in which Mrs. Ruth flashed in and out of the sunshine; and he took note of the radiant nimbus above her head each time the sunshine touched her hair. ' But, gentlemen, though they talked so largely, and looked so fiercely, they did not do it; they did not hang the bailiffs; and where are they?" "Ay, where are they?" echoed the company with indignant derision. " "Well, it's mighty fine of you to break your journey in this fashion—for someone you don't know, a passer-by.
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